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f 0 


PAESON BEECHEE 


HIS HORSE. 





A HUMOROUS ADVENTURE, 


BRIOKTOP. 



NEW YORK: 

PUBLISHED BYWINCHELL & SMALL, 
Nos. 48 Ank Street and 113 Fulton Street. 

1871. 


Tz 3 
. S 6 3 siT” 



Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1871, by 
WINCHELL & SMALL, 

In the Office of the Librarian of Congress at Washington. 


j^ARSON ^EECHER AND HIS WoRSE. 


“Now then, Sam, lead ‘Duster^ out, and let me show 
the gentleman his good points. Lively there, lively ! ” said 
Gouger, a well-known horse jockey, to a small chunk of 
animated India rubber that acted as his groom. 

“ All right, boss, Pse gwine,” and into the stable he 
vanished like a shadow. 

“Now, sir,” continued Gouger,^! know exactly what 
you want. You want a nice, gentle saddle-horse, one that 
has some ‘go’ inter him, and yet one as is nice an’ quiet 
like,” and he winked confidentially. 

“That is what I want, precisely,” replied Parson 
Beecher, rubbing his fat hands with delight. 

“Now don’t I tell yer? Says I ter Bill Larkin only 
yesterday, says I, ‘Now if some parson would only come 
along I have got a piece of flesh as would tickle him.’ Says 
Bill, ^There’s Parson Beecher.’ Says I, ‘Taint hardly in my 
luck that he should come for a horse,’ an’ by gracious here 
you are. There’s a finger of Providence inter it. I’ll bet 
ten to one.” 

“I trust so, sir,” and the parson tried to look serious 
over the matter. 


4 


PARSON BEECHER AND HIS HORSE. 


“ Don’t I tell yer I’ll het onto it ? Ah ! here comes my 
pet, my darling; Duster — that’s his name. Walk him 
right this way, Sam.” 

Sam was no freshman in the art of horse jockeying if he 
was a boy, and with a few artful but gentle touches he 
brought Dmter up before the parson in splendid style. 

Duster was a four-legged peculiarity. As to years he 
had seen the best of them, and would never be young again. 
He was long in the reach, innocent of fat as he was of 
beauty, but he had an eye in his head that looked wicked 
or mischievous as the case might be. 

“ Whoa, beauty ! ” said Gouger, as the animal came to a 
standstill. “Now, yer reverence, just take a look at him. 
I don’t say as how he is han’some, but he’s dreadful good. 
He was got up ’specially for a minister’s horse. He’s an awful 
knowin’ critter, pure Hambletonian, and when yer get 
familiar with him yer can just talk with him right along. 
Look at his feet and legs, arn’t they clean? Never saw any- 
thing better in my life, and I’ve been in the hors’ bizness 
goin’ on thirty year.” 

“ Do you tell me he is Hambletonian, sir ? ” 

“ Is he 1 Got his pedigree down to a minute. Why bless 
you, sir, he’s an old turfer. He has done his mile in 2-40 to 
wagon ; won ten thousand in a single season. But of course 
he has seen his fastest days, or he wouldn’t be for sale ; an* 
yet he’s fast, an’ don’t take much dust from anybody’s gig. 
He’s kind and gentle as a lamb — a three-year-old gal could 






6 


PAESON BEECHER AND HIS HORSE. 


drive him ; warranted sound and kind ; and seein’ as how 
it is you, an’ you’ll speak a good word for me round ’mong 
yer flock, I’ll let you have him for an even five hundred. 
There now, he’s worth a cool thousand,” and Gouger looked 
and spoke as though he was injuring himself for the good 
of the church. 

“But, my dear sir, I don’t wish to pay so much for a 
horse ; I only want a nice, quiet saddle-horse. I am getting 
pretty well along in years, and as I live some distance from 
the church I find the walk is getting rather too much for me.” 

Gouger said he had often thought the walk too long for 
the old parson, and then added : 

“ He’s cheap meat at that figure, parson,” 

“ I daresay he may he, hut I don’t call him a handsome 
animal hy no means.” 

“ Ah, parson, you knows how it is as well as I do ; han’- 
some is as han’some does. How yer see, parson, I knows 
what human natur’ is as well as I knows what a hoss is, an’ 
I knows as how it likes to go fast, whether it is a parson or 
a sinner. How you’d rather ride a hoss as won’t take dust 
— human natur ' and the jockey nearly drove* his fore- 
finger into the palm of his left hand for emphasis. 

Parson Beecher smiled, and for a moment plead guilty 
hy his looks, for to tell the truth he did like to ride a horse 
that was just a trifle previous to all others. Gouger saw the 
old fellow’s shell open, and in went the knife of his logic 
clear to the hilt : 


PAKSOIT BEECHER AND HIS HORSE. 


7 


Now, this ’ere boss is just the animal you want. He’s 
a Sunday hoss, or he’s a week-day hoss. He knows who’s on 
him and whar he’s agoin’. When you rides him to church 
he’ll jog along like a deacon, an’ when you’re out for pleas- 
ure during week-days he’ll git up an git as though Old 
Nick war arter him.” 

“Yes, but the — the price,” said the parson, hesita- 
tingly. 

“Now, parson, he’ll last as long as you do, an’ that’ll be 
a long time yet I hope, an’ he’ll be good up to the home 
stretch. But I don’t wan’t to be hard on the Cloth — what 
do you say at four hundred an’ fifty ?” 

The parson smiled, but shook his head. 

“ Now you see,” continued Gouger, “ if I sell him less 
’an that I shall lose by the operation, an’ of course you 
wouldn’t like me to do that. Hey I Sam, get up and speed 
him a bit.” 

Sam was astride of Duster as quick as a monkey, 
and in a cloud of dust they disappeared down the road. 

“ Git ! Why he takes no dust from anybody. I tell you 
a man can’t get much nearer heaven in this world than 
when he is on a hoss that won’t take no other boss’s dust. 
Here he comes back.” 

As he spoke Duster flew past at a rattling pace, and 
the parson fairly trembled with delight, though at the same 
time he tried to hide the emotion. He made up his mind 
to have that horse. 






10 


PAESON BEECHER AND HIS HORSE. 


“ Is four hundred and fifty the best you can do ? ” 

On my honor as a man and good citizen, if I sold him 
less I should lose money.” 

“Well, ni take him,” said the parson, going into his 
inside coat pocket for his money. 

“ I know^d you would parson, I know’d it. I’ll give you 
a clean bill of sale, and — I say, have you got a saddle 
and bridle ? ” 

“ No, I shall have to buy them.” 

“ Let me sell you ’em cheap as dirt Got : a first-class 
rig I’ll sell you for — well, I’ll tell you what I’ll do : Give 
me five hundred for Duster and a good saddle and bridle — 
yes. I’ll do better, I throw in a halter.” 

The parson made no reply but followed Gouger into the 
stable. The result was he got the old man’s five hundred 
dollars, and in return the parson got his horse and the 
trappings. 

Sam had Duster harnessed in no time, and when tra- 
der and tradee came out of the house, where they had been 
to transact their business, the horse was ready to go over 
to its new owner. 

Duster had a history that is not uninteresting. His 
pedigree was somewhat obscure, although his different 
owners fitted one to him that was eminently high-toned 
and taking, save with thoroughbred jockeys and turfmen, 
who simply recognized Duster as an eccentric, roughrand- 
tumble, with lots of “go” in him but not to be depend-' 


PAKSON BEECHEK AND HIS HORSE. 


11 


ed upon in a square race. He was “found” about twelve 
years ago by somebody who evidently didn’t consider it 
much of a find after all, since a tin-peddler bought him, still 
an unbroken colt, for ten dollars in trade. 

The tin-peddler broke him and christened him Duster^ 
and in return the colt broke his cart and scattered the 
man’s tinware and notions along the road between two vil- 
lages. The peddler gathered up his stock-in-trade, much 
of it second-hand by this time, and followed his animal into 
the next village, where he had been stopped, and proceeded 
to wollop him. Duster showed his spirit by biting off his 
owner’s southwest ear, a portion of his nose, and pulling a 
mouthful of hair out of his head, after which he put both 
heels through the dasher and laid down on the shafts to 
rest. 

That peddler became discouraged, and swapped him for 
an old mare that had long ago been turned out to die. But 
he concluded that he had come off lucky, and whistled 
Yankee Doodle as he left town as well as his damaged 
head-piece would allow. His new owner attempted to 
make Duster work with a mate at a plow, but at this he 
revolted and turned upon his mate, kicked out an eye, 
broke two ribs, landed the farmer head first into a furrow, 
and then ran away. The farmer never told his love. Ho 
let Duster go. 

In course of time he was again found by the pound- 
master of a straggling village, who placed him in pound to 









14 


PAKSON BEECHER AND HIS HORSE. 


await an owner. He kept him six months, and as no owner 
ever came Duster was put up at auction. The charges 
for keeping, fine, etc., amounted to about a hundred dollars, 
but when the “find” was brought out and voted the ugliest 
looking horse that ever walked on four legs, the first and 
only bid that could be obtained was ten dollars. This was 
the figure he was knocked down at, and the purchaser 
looked as though he had rather have been knocked down 
ten dollars’ worth himself than to have taken the horse 
even at that figure. From this it may reasonably be 
inferred that Duster was not a prepossessing or hopeful 
looking animal. 

Well, his new owner tried to work him, but he wouldn’t 
work. He bit a piece out of a hired man, kicked over a 
row of bee hives and everybody got stung, after which he 
was tried in a chase, and after showing a mile or two of 
extraordinary speed he succeeded in running away and 
breaking the farmer’s neck. Then he was turned into a 
lonely, out-of-the-way pasture, in hopes that somebody 
would steal him, but as his fame had got pretty well noised 
about by this time nobody would touch him and he was 
boss of the whole pasture for a year. At last somebody 
did steal him, and everybody rejoiced. 

W e next hear of him in another part of the country, 
hitched to a peddler’s cart again. For some reason or 
other he behaved very well for a year or so, during which 
period he was swapped and traded several times. At last a 


PAESON BEECHER AND HIS HORSE. 


15 


country horse jockey got hold of him, and found out that he 
could go — go fast. He won a race with him, and sold the 
horse for three hundred dollars. Then he got beaten badly 
on account of stopping to kick the driver out of his seat, 
and his owner was glad to get one hundred dollars for him. 
But still everybody knew that Dmter had “go’^ in him. 

He passed through several hands, and at last Gouger got 
possession of him and sold him to Parson Beecher, as be- 
fore related, although he had greatly improved in appear- 
ance since his coltish days. 

The parson walked around his new bargain once or 
twice with evident satisfaction. His big benevolent face 
beamed with the joy that was swelling in his honest old 
heart, and it is doubful if he would have taken two hundred 
dollars for his bargain as it stood. 

Taking the bridle rein he led the horse to the edge of 
a watering trough, and mounting it he threw himself into 
the saddle with all the agility of a youthful jockey. 
Duster felt his oats in an instant, but he also felt that 
the man who was on him was a thorough horseman, or at 
least no novice in the art. 

“Lord bless you, sir,” said Gouger, holding up both 
hands in admiration. “ Yer look at least twenty-five years 
younger. Go it ! ” 

The parson smiled and felt that Gouger had told the 
truth, and nodding “good-by” to the jockey, he let Bus- 
ter have his head and started briskly down the road. 


16 


PARSON BEECHER AND HIS HORSE. 


Gouger walked after him a few steps, watching the 
cloud of dust into which his victim had vanished, while 
the little darkey groom stood on his head and yelled 
with delight. 

Duster was in his glory, and so was Parson Beecher, 
although he began to think there was even more “ go ” in 
him than he had bargained for. He kicked up a fearful 
cloud of dust, but would take none from any other nag 
on the road. 

This pleased the parson wonderfully, for if he liked one 
thing more than another it was a fast horse. But there was 
a slight drawback, or rather there wasn’t a drawback at 
all, for Duster had taken the bit between his teeth and 
the idea into his head to “ go,” and the parson could not 
restrain him with all his strength. 

In vain he “sawed” the bit, in vain he pulled, in vain 
he hallooed “whoa!” in vain he coaxed Duster was 
out on a lark, and had no notion of being interfered with. 
If the parson didn’t like the sport he could get off. But the 
parson did like it, only he met too many people on the road 
whom he knew, some of whom held up their hands and hung 
out their eyes dreadfully at the spectacle of Parson Beecher 
riding through the town like a whirlwind, and on such a 
horse, too. They appeared to think that the old man had 
mounted Satan’s Mercury and was imitating the renowned 
John Gilpin. 

At last the horse came in sight of the village-tavern 








18 


PARSON BEECHER AND HIS HORSE. 


where any number of sporting men and owners of fast 
nags usually congregated, and the bare idea of being seen 
riding in this direction at such a rate was almost too much 
for the old fellow. What should he do ? 

Duster seemed only just warming up to the fun, and 
had he been going in almost any other direction the parson 
would have been as ready for it as the horse could possibly^ 
have been. Horse after horse on the road attempted to have 
a brush with him, but it was no go, for Duster showed 
them his heels in the half of no time. Everybody on or 
behind a horse wondered what the apparition meant. 

The poor old man almost fainted, and at last, in his desn 
peration, he raised himself in the saddle and threw his arms 
around Duster neck, pleading with him to “whoa!” 
“whoa! for goodness’ sake.” 

Duster liked oats no better than disobedience, and he 
looked as though he joined heartily in the laugh of the 
crowd who stood on the tavern veranda as they flew past 
it. It was a sight to behold .the staid old parson clinging 
around the horse’s neck in the agony of disgust and 
despair. 

But matters came to a head in a very few moments. 
Duster had travelled that road before, although it is 
safe to say he never had a parson on his back and neck 
before, or any one else, in fact, who took such a method of 
reducing his gait. 

“ Go it, old man ! ” shouted one. 


PARSON BEECHER AND HIS HORSE. 


19 


“ Fetch him down, boss!” said another. 

“ Take him hy the tail and he’ll go the other way! ” 

, “ Hang to him, pop 1 ” 

“ Blood -will tell ! ” 

“He’s playing Injun!” 

“ Duck ! ” shouted still another, as the horse turned the 
corner and headed for the tying-rail, where he had often 
been before it would seem. 

The wisdom of this advice was evident, for the edge of • 
the shed under which he must necessarily ride was scarcely 
high enough to clear the rider’s head unless he lowered it 
considerably. 

Dashing under this shed and up to the tying-rail, be- 
hind which the hostler was at work. Duster flew like a 
“hot ball.” What little hair the good old parson had was 
standing on end, and his two eyes stood out like those of a 
lobster about to be cooked. 

Up to this rail flew Duster and stopped, but in 
such a sudden and unceremonious manner that he threw 
the parson over his head, and he would undoubtedly have 
gone home with a broken neck had it not been for the 
hostler, on whose shoulders he alighted, as he was stooping 
over a tub of water.* As it was, the parson saved his own 
head and drove that of the astonished hostler, shoulders 
and all, into the tub of water, exactly as the artist has re* 
presented it. The parson turned a hand-spring summerset, 
and landed in a sitting-down posture nearly a rod beyond. 


20 


PARSON BEECHER AND HIS HORSE. 


Duster whinnied, the parson grunted, and the hos- 
tler swore. He swore roundly, but the poor parson hadn’t 
breath enough left in his body to remonstrate, if, indeed, 
he really blamed the man for doing so. 

The hostler wiped and danced the water out of his 
eyes, and then tried to find somebody to fight with. He 
was sissing-hot for it. He looked at the poor old man as 
he sat there utterly confounded, confused, and grunting, 
but his heart forbade him to seek satisfaction on him. So 
he turned to Duster^ who still stood as though admiring 
the job he had done. He doubled up his fist as though to 
give him one on the nose in return for what he had done, 
but the horse opened his mouth and looked so wicked that 
he concluded to seek vengeance elsewhere. 

“ Fat the divil does yees mane, at all, at all ? Bad luck 
to the two o’ yees, my neck is nearly broke,’' said Pat, 
turning from one to the other. 

‘•My dear friend," said the parson, faintly, “you have 
saved my life.” 

“ An fat the divil business had I ter save yer life, ye 
ould hay thin ? Who are yees, anyhow? ” 

“ Pm a minister,” whispered the parson faintly. 

“ Och, the divil’s own minister yees must be surely, ter 
be ridin such a baste as that,” and here he turned again to- 
wards Duster with his clenched fist, but “old wicked” 
again opening his mouth, Pat pocketed his fist and con- 
tinued his growling. 






22 


PAESON BEECHEE AND HIS HOESE. 


By this time a crowd of loungers rushed in and took a 
survey of the scene. The parson still remained in his lame 
position on the ground. Pat still dripped and cursed, and 
Duster looked approvingly on. 

A loud laugh was the most natural thing in the world 
under the circumstances, and there was no bashfulness 
manifested by anybody except those who had been instru- 
mental in bringing the entertainment about. 

One or two of the crowd recognized the parson, and 
went to his assistance. 

“ Are you hurt, Mr. Beecher ? ” 

“Well,” replied the old man, as they assisted him to 
his feet, “ I believe there are no bones broken, but it was 
a dreadful jar, a dreadful hoist.” 

“ I should say so.” 

“The old varmint! ” ejaculated the parson, shaking his 
fist at Duster^ who in return shook his head and opened 
his ugly mouth. 

But the ruling passion with the old man — the rendering 
good for evil — was strong even under such provoking cir- 
cumstances, and he ordered Pat to give the horse a round 
measure of oats. 

“ Och, be dad, Pd see him starved fust,” said Pat, giving 
himself a finishing shake to get the water out of his ears. 

The old parson was assisted to a seat on the inverted 
tub into which he had unintentionally thrust the head of 
unoffending Pat, and one of the party started for the bar- 


PARSON BEECHER AND HIS HORSE. 


23 


room for a “ cocktail ” — a medicine that many sporting men 
resort to when anything is the matter with them, whether 
it he a broken neck or a stroke of bad luck. Not a few 
take “ cocktails ” for corns, and have corns from one year’s 
end to another. 

“ Where did you get that horse, parson ? ” asked one. 

“ Bought him from Mr. Gouger, just now,” replied the 
old man with a sigh. 

“And is this your first trial?” And a laugh went 
round. 

The parson looked up appealingly, as much as to say, 
“I acknowledge it, gentlemen ; please reserve your com- 
ments.” 

“ How much did you pay for him, if it is a fair ques- 
tion ? ” asked one. 

“I wonder where Gouger picked him up?” queried 
another. 

“ Lots of material in him,” suggested another, and so 
the questions and chaffing went on for some time. 

“ The fact is, gentlemen, you are mistaken. The horse 
is a good one, only we have not got used to each other’s 
ways yet, that’s all.” 

A shout of laughter followed this, and one or two at- 
tempted to slap Duster approvingly on the hind quarters, 
but he resented any such familiarity with him in such a 
way with heels and mouth that the job was hastily aban- 
doned. 


24 


PARSON BEECHER AND HIS HORSE. 


‘•Out, ye four-legged villin ; does yees want ter play 
the divil wid another praste ? ” said Pat, getting behind 
one of the party and shaking his fist. 

Will some one give my horse oats ? ” asked the parson. 

“ I will se'e to it, pop,” said another hostler, who had 
been attracted to the spot. 

By this time the man who had been after the “ cocktail ” 
returned. 

“Try this, brother Beecher, it will do you good.” 

“ What is it ? ’’ asked the old man feebly. 

“ It is a mild extract of corn and juniper ; it is excellent 
for bruises and sudden stops.” 

“You are quite sure that it is all right, are you ? ” 

“ Oh, certainly. Drink it right off.” 

The parson glanced at the concoction, the flavor of 
which rose gratefully to his nostrils, and then to the 
young man who so kindly proffered it to him. 

“Well.” He sighed and hid the “cocktail” — that is, he 
drank it. He contemplated its quality and its mission a 
moment, with his eyes fixed on vacancy, and then ventured 
to smack his lips and pronounce it good. 

In ten minutes he seemed like a new man. He rose to 
his feet and felt himself. Then he smiled and looked at the 
party, as much as to say, “ Rather rough on an old man, 
wasn’t it?” 

“ My good friend,” said he, addressing Pat, the hostler, 
“ I am sorry that I was the means of hurting you.” 




26 


PARSON BEECHER AND HIS HORSE. 


“Pshaw; best thing that ever happened Pat; he hasn’t 
been so well washed in a month,” said one of the party. 

“ Faith, an’ if yees don’t get rid o’ that baste there’ll be 
a pulpit vacant before long,” growled Pat. 

“ I’m afraid so,” replied the parson, smiling. 

“ It isn’t every day yees’ll find a dacent man to fall on 
when yer thrown,” added Pat. 

“ You are right, but I’ll yet break him off his tricks,’’ 
replied the old man. It was evident that the “cocktail” 
was beginning to work and was giving him new spirit. 

The crowd that had gathered gradually dispersed when 
it was found that no necks or bones were broken and that 
the old man was again on his pins as lively as ever, leaving 
him with Pat and Duster^ who was quietly grinding his 
ration of oats. The parson walked up to and around his 
lively bargain. He patted him fondly and familiarly, and 
called him pet names until Duster, if he could understand 
anything, must have concluded that he did a big thing in 
pitching his rider head-foremost over the tying-rail. 

“ Be jabers,” said Pat, “ I think yees must be a praste 
if yees can talk blarney to the loikes o’ that baste.” 

“Kindness will subdue the most obdurate,” quietly re- 
marked the parson. 

“ Obdurate ! Is that what yer call it ? Faith, I thought 
it was the divil’s own cussedness.” 

The parson smiled and patted his horse, who really did 
appear to appreciate the only kind words and caresses that 


PARSON BEECHER AND HIS HORSE. 


27 


had been tendered him, for being tendered hard words and 
blows makes a horse tough quite as much as it does a man. 
The parson was a kind-hearted man, and he thought favor- 
ably of his horse — also of that “cocktail.” 

“ Patrick, here is a quarter of a dollar, will you have 
the kindness to procure me another glass of that medicine ? ” 

Pat’s mouth began to extend, and gradually a grin of 
the hugest dimensions spread itself over his rough face. 

“ And, Patrick, if there is enough change left, I think 
it would be advisable for you to take something of the 
kind, I feel that it has done me a sight of good.” 

Pat took the quarter and started for the bar-room, where 
he procured the “ cocktail ” and followed the suggestion of 
the parson in nearly a tumblerful of raw whiskey. 

This time the parson partook of his medicine standing, 
Pat stood watching him with a broad grin on his face, 
while Duster pricked his ears forward and the whole in- 
tellectual part of him looked like a tickled mule. 

This through with, our hero settled his score with the 
landlord and ordered his horse to be brought up to the 
door. But when Pat went to get him. Duster again 
lopped back his long ears and opened his mouth at him. 
One or two others tried to “ bring him up,” but abandoned 
the job. 

So the parson resolved to try it himself. He went up 
to his horse and the beast looked amiable in a minute. He 
took him by the bridle and led him up to the horse-block, 
where he mounted without the slightest trouble. 


28 


PARSON BEECHER AND HIS HORSE. 


Bowing pleasantly, and still with an air of trimnph, he 
turned his horse towards the highway and started. The 
animal behaved very well indeed, until another horse came 
up behind him, when he stopped, and deliberately turned 
square about to take a look at the supposed rival, during 
which time the other horse and rider shot past him at a 
sharp trot. 

Duster^s metal was up in an instant, and whirling 
again he set himself agoing at a rattling pace to get 
out of that other horse’s dust. Parson Beecher was a 
good rider, and it was well for him that he was, for when 
Duster was all in motion he “rocked," “paced," “trot- 
ted ” and “ galloped " all at the same time. 

But he had hard work, too, this time, for the horse he 
was after was a stepper " and took but little dust from 
anything on the road. But Duster went for him, not 
against the parson’s feelings either, and for a mile or so the 
contest was spirited. Gradually he gained on him, while 
the rider of the rival was giving his horse the whip at 
every leap. The parson “ clucked ” now and then, but in 
all other respects he was fully occupied in keeping on top 
of the saddle. 

The race was not a long one, for Duster was soon 
giving dust to his rival, greatly to the chagrin of the owner, 
who hailed the parson as he was flying by. After a few rods 
he brought Duster down a trifle, and by a little coaxing 
managed to get him to allow the beaten horse to approach. 







30 


PARSON BEECHER AND HIS HORSE. 


Where did you get that horse, pray ? asked the man. 

“I have just bought him, sir, of a man by the name of 
Gouger.” 

“ Gouger ! and the man laughed heartily. “ Why he is 
the most unmitigated scoundrel ip these parts. Where did 
he get him, I wonder ? ” 

I couldn’t tell you, sir.” 

“ If it’s a fair question, what did you give ? ” 

“About five hundred dollars.” 

The man let go a long whistle of astonishment. 

“Is he sound?” 

“ I should say so, sir,” replied the parson honestly. 

“ I’ll give you a thousand dollars for your bargain.” 

“No thank you, I didn’t buy him to sell; good day,” 
and bowing to the man and “clucking” to his horse he 
was soon on the road to the parsonage. 

“ So, so,” thought he. “ If I am not mistaken, I have a 
bargain. It is evident that his former owners have failed 
to get along with him on account of his viciousness ; but I 
will treat him kindly and make him the best as well as the 
fastest horse about here. A thousand dollars, eh? I 
wouldn’t take two thousand, would I, Dmter ? ” he asked, 
patting him on the neck kindly. 

It seemed to be an understood thing between them that 
eacb considered the other just about right, and when they 
arrived home the parsoji displayed his new purchase with 
a deal of pride. He recounted the favorable nart of his 


PAESON BEECHER AND HIS HORSE. 


31 


achievements since he had bought him, together with the 
thousand-dollar offer that he had had. His wife didn’t like 
the looks of the animal. He didn’t look a whit like a 
minister’s horse, and a few of his neighbors suggested that 
the animal looked a trifle “ cranky.” 

But the parson’s mind was made up. He loved the 
horse, and was determined to keep him. While installing 
him in his stable he talked familiarly with him regarding 
his new quarters, and even went so far in his confidential 
confab as to mention several owners of fast horses whom 
they would in the future get the best of. 

As the week wore away the parson became more and 
more in love with his animal, and although lie refrained 
from racing he took him. out on the turnpike every day for 
exercise, which exercise generally consisted in letting 
Duster have his own way in dealing with the other 
horses whom he encountered, which way was — away ahead 
of them. 

In fact quite a little scandal had already been set agoing 
among his parishioners who had either seen or heard of 
the parson’s racing horse. But as yet these gossipings 
had not reached his ears, although it is to be doubted if he 
would have cared a snap if they had, so completely was he 
in love with his horse. 

But he went on v/riting his sermon during his leisure 
from attending to Duster^ and when Sunday came he was 
up betimes and had a long confidential talk with his favor- 


X 

















84 


PARSON BEECHER AND HIS HORSE. 


ite, regarding how he must behave during the day. He 
Was a minister’s horse now, and when going about on 
Sunday he must always look and act in a serious and digni- 
fied manner. 

The parson’s wife was an invalid and never attended 
church, and of course had no use for a horse, although the 
parson promised to buy a carriage and give her a ride now 
and then. The old lady said he needn’t trouble himself 
about it ; she wouldn’t trust what little there was left of 
her behind such a beast on no account. In fact, nobody 
spoke a good word for his animal, and the parson began to 
take it much to heart. 

Well, when it came time to go to church he placed his 
sermon in his pocket and haounted his horse Duster^ who 
was somewhat impatient ; and had the parson known him 
as well then as he learned him afterwards he would have 
seen that he meant fun. 

The distant church bell was ringing for the last time in 
the morning when he set out. There were several ungodly 
people out with fast nags, and DusteVy soon forgetting 
what his master told him about his Sunday behavior, closed 
in for what “ brushes ” he could scare up. In fact, he seemed 
to be red hot for fun and frolic, greatly to the disgust oi 
his owner. 

When they had arrived to within about a quarter of a 
mile of the church, Duster took the bit in his teeth and 
began to strike out at a terrific pace. In vain did the 




36 


PAESGN BEECHEE AND HIS HOESE. 


parson attempt to argue and reason with him, to hold him 
down to a Sunday trot ; go he would in spite of every- 
thing. Mr. Beecher’s hat flew ofi*, and the figure that he 
presented as he rode past the church will never he for- 
gotten by the members of his flock who rushed to the door 
to see him. 

The involuntary fast man was almost ready to swoon 
with mortification and anger. He “ sawed ” the bit, but 
Duster held on like grim death, and went like the very 
Old Boy’s blind nag. The parson tried to pull him to one 
side of the road, but no ; he was out for fun and meant to 
have it. 

The “pillars” of the church were horrified. It had been 
whispered about somewhat — the old parson’s crazy horse 
with which he was in love ; but that he should so far forget 
himself and his duty as a Christian minister as to ride like 
mad J ack Gilpin right past his gathered flock on the Sab- 
bath day, it was too much to trust their own senses with, 
almost. They counselled together, and waited for his 
return. 

How let as follow the parson and his horse, and then we 
can form some kind of a conclusion as to how long they 
would have to wait. As before stated. Duster was out 
for fun. Passing everything on the road, he again made for 
the tavern, where he appeared to be used to going, and 
where he had once before “ spilled ” the worthy parson on 
top of the hostler, Pat. 




38 


PARSON BEECHER AND HIS HORSE. 


"No argument of words and not a bit of anything else 
would turn him — go he would ; and while the patrons of the 
place were discussing the great horse-race that was to come 
off that day, at the course a mile or two away, they were 
startled by seeing Duster and the parson again sweep 
into the yard and up towards the tying-rail. 

But this time he cut a less ludicrous figure, for although 
he had no hat on he was seated naturally in the saddle, and 
appeared to have become mournfully resigned to his fate , 
whatever it might be. In fact, he hoped he might meet 
with the man who offered him the thousand dollars for his 
bargain; even though it was Sunday he thought he 
would take it. Duster had “ go” in him, but he had too 
much of his own way about it. 

The horse held up in tolerable good order at the tying- 
rail, and the parson dismounted in pretty good condition 
and more at his leisure than Kefore. A crowd of admirers 
flocked about him in a minute, for the lame of the horse 
had got noised abroad and speculation was rife as to what 
the parson intended to do with him. Duster’s pedigree had 
by this time been pretty well settled among the horsemen, 
as given several pages back. He was a dangerous horse to 
bet against as well as a dangerous one to own. The ques- 
tion still was, what would he do with him ? 

The parson, as may well be surmised, was thoroughly 
out of humor at the conduct of his nag, and was not slow in 
telling how rascally he had behaved. But several jockeys 


PARSON BEECHER AND HIS HORSE. 


39 


gathered around and praised the horse until the old man 
began to be ashamed of himself for even thinking hard of 
a beast that could beat anything on the road, even if he 
was a trifle wicked. 

“ Try him to harness, Pop,’^ suggested one . 

“ I think he would behave better behind a carriage,” 
said another ; and various arguments were in a short time 
brought forward to prove that Duster would be perfectly 
lamb-like and Sunday-going if he was driven in harness. 
The parson resolved to try it, and no time was to be lost 
either, for it was now flfteen minutes past church time, and 
he must be back or there would be no services. 

“ Have you a carriage you could lend me ? ” he asked 
of the landlord. 

*‘I have nothing with wheels to it, except a sulky,” re- 
plied mine host. 

“ What is a sulky ? asked the parson. 

“ Why, a two- wheeled carriage.” 

“ Well, let me have that. Necessity knows no law, why 
should she know propriety ? I must get back to my flock 
without delay.” 

“ Pat, you and John hitch the parson’s horse up in the 
red sulky.” 

After considerable bother this was accomplished. 

“ Now then, have you a hat you can lend me ? I lost 
my own on the road.” 

“ pet me see — I have a capy if that would do,” replied 
the landlord. 


40 


PAESON BEECHER AND HIS HORSE. 


Yes, it will have to do if you can do no better.*’ 

The landlord disappeared and inaminuteor so came out 
with a jockey-cap, which he placed upon the old man’s head. 

“ There, now you are all right, Pop, just let me help you 
to get in.” 

“ Thank you, you are very kind.” 

The landlord assisted him into the sulky and handed 
him the reins. 

“ Now then, keep a firm hand on him and you will have 
no trouble.” 

It was not without some misgivings that the parson 
drew the lines over his favorite. He got a good send off, 
however, and started down the road towards the church 
with a great deal of honesty. He trotted away so* gentle 
that the party who stood on the veranda of the tavern 
said it was all right, and that there would be no more 
trouble with him. 

In truth. Duster was behaving first-rate, and the pas- 
tor began to read over his sermon as he trotted quietly 
along towards where it was to be delivered. 

But Duster hdidi not yet had his sport by long odds. 
After going a mile, or so very nicely he came to a road 
which led to the race-course, and where there was a Sunday 
race, free for all comers, for a nice little purse. Duster 
scented the battle from afar, and darted down this road 
like a streak of tallowed lightning, so to speak. 

So sudden was thia new departure, the parson was 




42 


PARSON BEECHER AND HIS HORSE. 


Dearly thrown backwards from his seat, and in catching 
suddenly at the reins he lost his sermon. 

Here was more trouble for the good old man. He tried 
with all his might to put a stop to Duster^s little game, but 
it was no go, at least no go on his part but all on Duster's. 
He headed for the course like mad. 

A casual observer would have failed to see anything 
resembling a minister in the appearance of the parson as 
he rode along. In the first place, the horse himself was a 
flat contradiction to anything religious or steady-going, 
and then the sulky, the jockey’s cap worn by the driver, 
and the peculiar “sporting” look which he had, would 
have deceived almost anybody, although the good man was 
a victim to circumstances beyond his control. 

Reaching the main gate, which stood before the race 
course. Duster gave even another spring forward and dashed 
in upon the track. 

The principal race of the day was just on the point of 
being run. The horses had just got the word “ go,” as 
Duster whirled in and joined them. Here was sport un- 
looked for. Two other horses were entered, but Duster 
at once took the lead and maintained it to the end. 

As he flew past the judges’ stand the half-vexed, half- 
pleased parson saw the announcement thrown out “ 2-40,” 
while the other horses were distanced. 

The parson did not stop to claim the stakes or the 


PARSON BEECHER AND HIS HORSE. 


43 


honors. Just as soon as he could get Duster* s head towards 
the gate he guided him out of it. 

By this time the animal had got all he cared for just 
then. In fact, he was pretty well blown. 

At last he managed to bring him down to a walk, and, 
finally, to a stand-still. Heavens and earth ! what had this 
wicked horse done? Why, how many sermons had he 
preached against this very sport, this very wickedness, 
horse-racing on the Sabbath, and now what had he done 
but engaged in one himself? 

And what is more, he had beaten all other competitors. 
Ah I there was just a grain of crude consolation there. 
Duster had proven himself the fastest nag on the course. 

“ 2-40 ! ” whew ! There was glory in that, even if it 
was Sunday and he should have been preaching while he 
was racing. The old man almost chuckled as he contem- 
plated it, and how taken aback those sports must be at the 
sudden and unlooked for victory over them. It served 
them just right; they had no business to be racing on the 
Sabbath. Jle again renewed his love for Duster, and 
mentally raised his price to three thousand dollars, and 
with no particular desire to sell even at that figure. 

But while he was thinking and inwardly congratulating 
himself, he happened to think of his waiting fiock, and 
suddenly the glory of his achievement vanished and he 
begun to feel very bad indeed. 

He began to look about him. It was about where he 



PARSON BEECHER AND HIS HORSE. 


45 


now rested that he had lost his sermon. He got down out 
of the sulky and began to hunt about in quest of it. 

Duster remained perfectly passive while his master was 
searching for the sermon, and could his facial expression 
have been interpreted it would doubtless have shown men- 
tal anxiety for those lost words of wisdom and comfort. 

While searching thus the parson happened to come 
across a copy of the well-known comic paper, Wild Oats, 
which some one had lost. He picked it up and glanced at 
its contents. Duster took a few steps forward and looked 
over his shoulder. 

The honest face of the parson immediately assumed a 
comical expression, while Duster pricked up his ears and 
appeared to enjoy the fun contained in the illustrations 
quite as much as his master did. In fact, the old expres- 
sion of making a horse laugh ” was fully verified. Dus- 
ter laughed and so did the parson. 

But he suddenly remembered himself. What was he 
doing ? what day was it ? who was he, and what were the 
exigencies of the occasion ? Where was his flock ? what 
were they doing, and what was the opinion relative to his 
absence ? 

With this flood of convictions the old man suddenly 
looked serious, and so did Duster, 

That horse actually looked sorry for what he had done, 
and for what he had obliged his master to do. 

The search was resumed, and after a long time the par- 


46 


PARSON BEECHER AND HIS HORSE. 


son found his sermon and again got into his sulky. He 
spoke to Duster^ and that sagacious animal looked around to 
see what the matter was, or what new trouble had overtaken 
his master. 

“ Get up, Blister suggested the parson. 

appeared to understand it, and yet he hadn’t a fair 
comprehension of what was required of him, or, if he had, he 
resolved on having his own way about “ getting up.” 

So he kicked up behind. 

“ Whoa !” yelled the parson, and Duster kicked up again. 

“ Get up,” said the preacher. 

But Duster only “ got up ” behind, as before, and this 
time in such a way as to break the shafts of the s ulky. 

The parson shouted lustily and grabbed Duster by the 
tail. 

He held on for dear life ; it was a tail of woe not “whoa” 
with him just then, and he felt as though the very fates 
were against him, and that Satan himself had certainly been 
instrumental in mixing him up with that horse. 

But regrets did not save him. Over he went into the 
dirt, tearing his clothes and bruising him terribly. Duster 
did not attempt to run away, on the contrary he quietly 
turned around and took a look at the old man as he was 
struggling to his feet. 

Any man could have bought that horse then for a mere 
song. The old parson not only held the animal cheap, but 
he felt dreadfully cheap himself. 


PARSON BEECHER AND HIS HORSE. 


47 


The thought of what would be said of him at church 
and among his friends was now uppermost in his mind. 
He gathered himself up as best he could and begun to con- 
template the situation. 

Buster looked as honest as “ Cooper’s cow,” and a stran- 
ger would never have suspected for an instant that he 
had anything to do with the parson’s discomfiture. 

But something must be done. He was completely cov- 
ered with dirt. His swallow-tail coat was ripped up the 
back clear to the collar ; his nose was completely skinned, 
and about the various portions of his anatomy he felt that 
he had been sadly used, and looked as though he had been 
through a threshing machine. 

Haps or mishaps, time enough had already been lost; 
and now he resolved to trust only to his personal legs, 
and make his way back to his flock just as quick as they 
would let him do so. 

Taking Duster by the bridle he hobbled along, leaving 
the disabled sulky to “ sulk ” by the roadside. The horse 
looked sorry enough, and instinctively concluding that 
misery delights in company, he went lame first in one foot, 
and then on another, as he humbly followed the demoralized 
parson. 

In this condition he reached the church, and was met 
by a crowd of its members. 

“ Why, Parson Beecher, what upon earth ails you?” 

‘‘ Are you hurt ?” 


48 


PARSON BEECHER AND HIS HORSE. 


“ Lordy massy, he’s bleedin’ !” 

“Isn’t it too bad!” and a dozen other like expressions 
greeted the old man as he led his horse into their presence. 

“I am not much hurt, my friends,” said the parson, 
wiping the mud and perspiration from his brow, “ but I’m 
dreadfully put about.” 

“ Let me take him, parson ; I’ll fix him,” said one of the 
deacons, approaching Duster as though to chastise him. 

Duster opened his mouth and lopped back his ears 
wickedly, and the deacon stood back without asking. 

“ Whoa ! you varmint !” he exclaimed, while the entire 
congregration gathered around at a respectful distance 

“ I think we have had about enough of this,” suggested 
Deacon Doleful, with a look of pious indignation upon his 
pinched face. 

“ What shall be done ?” asked the parson. 

“ Why, go on with the meetin’,” said another deacon. 

“ In this plight ?” he asked, looking at himself. 

“I’ll lend you my coat,” said a jolly member. 

“ Thanks ; I wish I could also borrow your whole ^tkin,” 
replied the parson, at which everybody not maliciously 
pious felt that they must laugh. 

^ The deacons and the sorrowful sisterin looked horrified 
at the worldliness of their old parson, to think that he would 
be guilty of uttering a joke or saying a funny thing anyhow. 

But the dilapidated parson took his horse round to 
the shed and tied him securely, after which he exchanged 




50 


PARSON BEECHER AND HIS HORSE. 


coats with his accommodating brother, and made himsel^ 
as presentable as possible. He thought how much good 
another one of those medicinal cocktails would do him at 
this time, but as there was no such a thing as getting one, 
he took some water, both internally and externally, and 
then entered the church. 

The excited congregation were all seated again, and, 
with the exception of a mischievous titter that ran around 
among the younger persons, everything was as still as it 
should have been. The deacons looked around and frown- 
ed on those who presumed to smile, and presently all was 
silence. 

The parson had by this time become composed enough 
to know what he was about, and proceeded to harmonize 
matters by , giving out a hymn, after which he went 
through with the other and usual devotional exercises with 
much more force and spirit than might have been ex- 
pected. 

But it required many more frowns from the deacons, 
and many stiff upper lips on the part of those whose risibles 
were easily excited ; for the battered nose and the general 
“ git up” of the old preacher would have provoked a laugh 
from a statue almost. 

The morning services were over with at last, and the 
parson led his horse home, leaving the congregation to 
manage the Sunday-school in the usual way. 

The occurrences of the morning created more food for 


PARSON BEECHER AND HIS HORSE. 


51 


comment than the lessons did. The mothers of the church 
knotted themselves together and canvassed the parson’s 
little adventure in all kinds of ways, although the general 
impression seemed to be that he should have known better 
than to have bought such a horse. 

The deacons and the leading lights of the flock also 
talked the matter over with great gravity. To them it 
seemed entirely inexplicable. That a man of his age and 
position should have made such a show of himself was more 
than they could understand. One or two of them hinted 
that the old man was slightly given to the allurements of 
fast horseflesh, and this point produced much additional 
sensation. 

In the afternoon the parson again took his place in the 
pulpit, dressed with his accustomed neatness, although a 
bad limp and a stifiened gait generally told that the rough 
usage he had received in the morning had produced its 
efiect upon him. This created him lots of sympathy, and 
when the services were over several of his flock gathered 
around and condoled with him, although those done up in 
the tightest religious corsets kept away and coldly started 
for home. 

The parson was not slow to note this action on the part 
of those who should have sympathized with him, and as 
he trudged and limped towards his home he entertained no 
very Christian thoughts regarding them. Had they mani- 
fested any love or sorrow for him, had they suggested to 


52 


PAESON BEECHER AND HIS HORSE. 


him kindly that he had better dispose of his horse, he would 
have done so without loss of time. 

As it was, he went directly to the stable, and held a 
communion with Duster, 

“ No, old fellow, I won’t part with you now, if I have to 
with them first,” he s lid, encouragingly, as he patted the 
horse’s neck. 

Duster appeared to understand it and whinnied ap- 
proval, lopping back his ears, and again bringing them for- 
ward with a snap. When the parson asked him if he was 
going to be a better horse in the future. Duster fairly 
danced afiirmatively, and then the parson gave him some 
hay, and left him alone, as much as to say, “ This is the 
bond between us for your future good behavior.” 

The next day he ordered a new set of harness ; but the 
messenger made a mistake, and carried it to the house of 
Deacon Doleful, much to his consternation. 

By this means it became known that the parson did not 
intend to part with his fast horse ; but, on the other hand, 
he was actually trapping him out in regular sporting array. 
This news was quickly spread around among the faithful, 
and great indignation was caused thereby. 

The fault-finders and traducers increased every day, and 
not a few averred that they could detect slang in his pray- 
ers and horse-talk in his sermons, so certain were they that 
the old preacher had been seduced into the vile ways of the 
world through the instrumentality of that dreadful horse. 









54 


PARSON BEECHER AND HIS HORSE. 


In the meantime Parson Beecher was fast giving him- 
self away, not to the fleshpots of Egypt, hut to horseflesh 
of the choicest kind. He was often seen on the road in the 
vicinity of where the owners of fast horses were wont to 
drive, and he managed in a very short time to heat every- 
thing that came against him, and to win a reputation for 
Duster that any sporting man might envy. The horse 
appeared to keep faith with him, and to hehave first-rate on 
all occasions. His former had reputation was forgotten, 
and many a man tried to huy him, or to swap their fast 
nags for him, with “ hoot.” 

All to no purpose, however. He was king of the road ; 
and although the parson ahstained from driving him on 
the course or elsewhere for money, yet he entered into 
all kinds of sport with him, and was the means of winning 
much money for those who het upon him. 

But this was noised about and became a scandal upon 
the church ; not that he was not as good a preacher as ever, 
hut his flock did not think so. The old ladies, the mothers 
of the church, took it greatly at heart, and at length they 
formed themselves into a committee for the pui*pose of 
visiting the old man and inquiring into his conduct. 

Tliey found him in his study, in his shirtsleeves, sur- 
rounded by sporting papers and hooks on horses and 
horseracing. They were completely dumbfounded. This he“ 
loved parson was clean gone, and no mistake. Sorrowfully 
they told their errand, and asked him why this was thus. 


PARSON BEECHER AND HIS HORSE. 


55 


“ Ladies, I shall not attempt to excuse myself if you 
consider that what I have done and am doing is wrong. I 
love my horse, and he loves me, I take infinite pleasure 
in driving him ; and in knowing that he is the fastest horse 
in the country. I don’t think you can find anything in the 
Bible that forbids a man from loving and enjoying a horse 
I think it does me good to partake of such enjoyment, and 
I propose to do so.” 

“ Oh, brother Beecher ! ” came in chorus from them all. 

But the old man was resolute, and all their “ ohs ” did 
not move him or convince him that he was wrong. Yet 
he was courteous and even more than that. He invited 
them to stay to tea with him. At this there was a marked 
change in his favor, and so they all concluded to stay, for of 
all things a cup of tea and its natural accompaniments is 
the greatest female mollifier — that is, to those who have got 
past the delights of dress and are on the social home 
stretch. 

It was quite late when they got up from the table, and 
as Sister Spumper lived fully three miles away, the good 
old man volunteered to harness up his much talked-of horse 
and take her home. This was quickly agreed to, for she had 
a curiosity to see what the sensation would resemble, and 
besides, she could speak from positive knowledge regarding 
the parson’s proclivities, if ever there came a chance for 
doing so. 

In a short time Duster was harnessed to the new road* 


56 


PAESON BEECHER AND HIS HORSE. 


wagon which the parson had brought, and Sister Spumper 
was assisted in. The horse was feeling splendidly, and the 
old man let him out a bit, or just enough to pass anything 
on the road. 

The slashing gait nearly frightened the wits out of the 
curious sister, and she begged of the parson not to let him 
go so fast. But his assurances that he would drive slower, 
and that there was no danger, didn’t amount to much, and 
when Duster espied a still faster horse ahead, he laid his 
long ears back and started for him. The frightened sister 
seized the parson around the waist. 

“ For heaven’s sake, do stop ; we shall both of us be 
killed, and besides, what will people say ? ” 

The old man laughed, and Duster kept right down to 
business, but in order to beat his antagonist he went some 
distance beyond Mrs. Spumper’s residence, occasioning 
much wonder and alarm in the household. But after he 
had passed this horse Duster quietly allowed himself to be 
turned about, and in a few moments stopped at the lady’s 
house. 

It was a terrible thing all around. Mrs. Beecher, how- 
ever, paid but little attention to what was said by every- 
body regarding her husband, for she had enjoyed some 
sport with Duster in company with her husband, and be- 
sides she concluded that he knew his own business quite as 
well as she could tell it to him. 

But the deacons and brethren of the church had taken 








58 


PARSON BEECHER AND HIS HORSE. 


the matter in hand and resolved to pay the old man a visit, 
and give him to understand that he must either dispose of 
his horse or resign his pulpit. 

They found him dressing for the road, and his horse 
standing before the door demurely waiting. It did not 
take them long to state the object of their visit, but finding 
the old man’s love for Duster still strong they waxed wroth 
and at once came to the issue. 

“ Well, sir, which had you rather give up, your fast 
horse or your pastorate ?” 

“ My pastorate^'* calmly replied the parson. 

“ That settles it,” said two or three. 

“ Play or pay ! ” put in the old man, as he stood boldly 
up before them. 

“You should be ashamed of yourself to bring such a 
scandal upon the church, and at your age too,” said Deacon 
Doleful. 

“ Play or pay ! ” again replied the parson, smiling 
beautifully bland, and so childlike. 

“ I am shocked,” said Deacon Marrowbone, and they all 
held up their hands in pious horror. 

“ Brethren, have you concluded your business ? ” 

The good men looked each other inquiringly in the face 
for a moment and then concluded that they had finished, and 
that they might withdraw without offending the old man 
in the least. 

Left to himself the old man gave way to a long and seri- 


PARSON BEECHER AND HIS HORSE. 


59 


ous course of reflection. Perhaps he was acting both foolish 
and wicked ; perhaps he was acting too bold in doing as he 
did, and so when he went out to exercise Duster he coaxed 
him down to a more pious trot and avoided all brushes. 

The next day he chanced to think of an old wig that he 
had in the house, and with it he resolved to disguise himself 
and see if that would not abate the gossip and scandal. He 
tried it,-and dressing in his long duster and a broad brim- 
med hat he ventured forth for fun with Duster upon the 
road. 

Now, one of the gayest sports in the village, and the 
owner of one of the fastest horses, was Charley Doleful, the 
son of Deacon Doleful. He was fast, and so were his com- 
rades. He was a great patron of the racecourse, and as a 
natural consequence he took great delight over the conver- 
sion of Parson Beecher ; and his parents, who had striven so 
hard to restrain his rapid career, found that it was like a 
warm shower upon their son’s crop of wild oats, and lost all 
hope. 

While out that afternoon he saw the young man driving 
ahead of him, and wishing to show him that his was not the 
fastest horse on the road, and to take the conceit out of 
him a bit, he gave Duster his head and soon overtook the 
blood, who was doing his best to avoid it. The parson was 
confident in his disguise, but as he drove up alongside of 
the other team his hat and wig blew off and there he was, 
and no mistake. 


60 


PARSON BEECHER AND HIS HOBSE. 


“ Hello, parson, I thought it was you,” said Charley. 

“ Well, I beat you at all events,” replied the parson, 
draining up his horse, and evidently feeling mean and discon- 
cerljed over it. 

A lad brought his hat and wig to him. The wig he 
crammed into his pocket, and thrust the hat over his head 
so far that it made quite as good a disguise as before. 

“ I am glad to be beat by you, parson, and am glad to 
meet you on the road.” 

“ Young man, horseracing is very bad business.” 

“ Yes. when you get beat.” 

“ No, it’s a bad practice anyway ; your father told me 
so only the other day.” 

“ He be hanged I he is too slow and selfish for this world, 
and no wonder he is trying to hedge for the next. You 
are right, and everybody with an ounce of brains or a 
spark of manly generosity says so.” 

“ Do you say so ? ” asked the parson smiling. 

“ To be sure. What do you care for those old soulless 
fossils ? ” 

“ But I may be turned out of my pulpit.” 

“ Let her rip, what do you care. Why, you have got 
twenty five thousand a year in that horse. That bears 
preaching all hollow.” 

The old man was silent, but he smiled with evident satis- 
faction as they drove quietly along side by side. 

“ Let us go to the tavern, and I will show you that your 


% 











62 


PARSON BEECHER AND HIS HORSE. 


conduct is approved by every respectable man in town, bar- 
ring fogies and garrulous old women.” 

“ Well, but I don’t wish to be known as a sporting 
man.” 

“ Oh, I understand, you go in for the fun of the thing. 
They know that, and honor you for it. So come along, it’s 
all right. I’m square, and will see you through anything.” 

With this understanding, which evidently pleased the 
owner of Duster^ they drove to the tavern, where there 
were several well-known turfites and sporting men of the 
better class. They were just indulging in a bottle of cham- 
pagne as the parson and the deacon’s son entered, and after 
an introduction they were invited to join them. The par- 
son hesitated. 

“ Oh, you need have no fears ; there is no one here but 
considers himself a gentleman, and would scorn to mention 
the facts outside. Come, Join us.” 

It only required a little more argument of this kind to 
persuade the parson to join them. He drank two glasses 
with them, and was just beginning to get interested in the 
proceedings when a great cry and hullibullu outside at- 
tracted their attention. Rushing out to the sheds they 
found that Duster had become dissatisfied with the treat- 
ment that Pat the hostler was bestowing upon him, and 
was holding him up by the seat of his breeches, while he 
was yelling all sorts of bloody murder. A few words, how- 
ever, from the parson caused Duster to open his mouth and 


PARSON BEECHER AND HIS HORSE. 


63 


drop the frightened wretch, who straightway made it his 
husiness to get out of the way. 

“ Bad luck to the divil* s own baste,” said Pat, when far 
enough out of the way ; “ he has murthered me entirely,” 
and the way he rubbed what he usually sat down upon was 
in a manner by no means slow. 

After enjoying a good hearty laugh at the hostler’s ex- 
pense, the parson gave him some money to get an antidote 
in the shape of whisky, which he applied internally, after 
which the party returned to the bar-room, and called for 
another bottle of wine. 

By the time this one was disposed of the entire party, 
and the parson especially, was feeling well — ^feeling high in 
fact. But he was not quite dead to the truth that somebody 
might come in and catch them at their wine and hilarity, 
and so they went into one of the private parlors for the pur- 
pose of having another bottle. 

Here the old man felt much more comfortable, and be- 
gan to give way to the influences which came upon him. 
The young fellows started a song and the parson joined in 
it with much unction. They saw how things were working, 
quietly tipped the wink to each other and called for another 
bottle. While this was going on the old man engaged fer- 
vently with one of them in talking horse and sporting mat- 
ters generally. 

He was not only an enthusiast but an apt scholar at the 
lessons before him, and they all concluded that if it was 


64 


PARSON BEECHER AND HIS HORSE. 


really true that it is hard to learn old dogs new tricks, the 
old parson must have been pretty thoroughly trained in his 
youth, and was just now coming upon it again. 

Another and another bottle was called for and disposed 
of, until at length the old fellow was as mellow as a peach. 
He was even more than that, he was almost ripe enough to 
drop off. Some one proposed his health and called upon 
him for a speech. To this he assented without hesitation. 

“ Get up on the table, Pop,” said they, and with the as- 
sistance of a couple of them he pulled off his coat and 
mounted the table. 

“ Brethren — that is, friends, hie !” he began, as he held 
aloft his champagne-glass, “ horses is splendid. Chaps as, 
hie ! as drives ’em’s splendid also. Here’s your very good 
health ; may you live long and prosper.” 

After saying about so much, and being loudly applauded, 
he concluded he had said about enough ; and getting down 
all in a heap from the table, he called loudly for his horse. 

Now, the same wine that had made the old parson so 
oblivious to almost everything, had also put the devil into 
the heads of his youthful companions, and they resolved on 
further fun at the old man’s expense. 

One of the party staid with him in the room, while 
the others went out to bring his horse up to the door. 
Instead of doing so they found a mule and cart which 
somebody had left standing under the shed, and so they 
brought that up to the door instead of Duster. 



66 


PARSON BEECHER AND HIS HORSE. 


Leading the old man carefully out, they assisted him into 
the cart and handed him the reins. Supposing himself to 
he behind his own horse, he called out to his companions 
to come on, and see how easily he would beat them. 

A couple of teams were about starting off, and relishing 
the sport, they accepted his challenge, and away they went, 
followed by the parson and the mule, and a yell of laughter 
that might have been heard to the next town. 

The old man was red-hot for sport, and the way 
he did yell to that poor mule would have shamed a 
Camechee chief. The sports held up their horses pur- 
posely, that the delusion might be kept up that he was 
behind Dusteir^ and that everything else on the road was 
behind him. 

Presently the .board which had answered for a seat 
broke in two, and the old man fell backward into the 
bottom of the cart, still holding on to the lines, and yelling, 
“ Whoa, Duster — whoa !” 

A dozen or more teams were following in his wake, 
including Duster^ who was with much difficulty kept from 
rushing to the front. Hut at last that mule became dis- 
couraged, and without saying a word he lay down upon 
the shafts, snapping them both short off, and pitching the 
parson head foremost on top of him. 

The fright half sobered him, and hastily regaining his 
feet he sat down upon the side of the refractory and de- 
moralized mule with the intention of holding him there. 


PARSON BEECHER AND HIS HORSE. 


67 


but all the while cryiug in the most conciliatory and pacific 
way, “ Whoa, — whoa!” 

The remainder of the party drove up, and, hastily dis- 
mounting, they inquired if he was hurt, and finding that 
he was not they assisted him to his feet and the poor mule 
to his. Both mule and minister looked bewildered and dis- 
couraged. They also looked demoralized. 

“ WTiat is the meaning of this ?” asked the old man. 

“Why, how happened you to take this mule?” asked 
one of the party, in all sobriety. 

The parson looked first at the mule, and then at the 
crowd of young sports who stood around looking the very 
pictures of innocence. His face gradually became distorted 
by a look of wonder that was perfectly comical, and after 
viewing it for a moment, the party could hold in no longer, 
but exploded into a perfect storm of laughter. 

“ Young men,” said the old parson, “I don’t understand 
the meaning of this.” 

“ I will tell you. Pop, the champagne got the best of 
you,” replied one of the sports. 

“ Wliere is my horse — ^my beloved Duster .^” 

“Here he is,” said Charley Doleful, pointing to the 
horse, who stood close by contemplating the old man more 
in sorrow than in anger. 

“ I think this is a trick; but, at all events, I acknowledge 
the com, as you fellows say. Where is my hat and coat, and 
what shall be done with this animal and the broken cart?” 


68 


PARSON BEECHER AND HIS HORSE. 


“Here is Pat, the hostler; he will take him back and 
get the shafts mended,” said Charley. 

“All right ! Paddy, my man ; take it to the wheel- 
wright’s, and tell him to mend it and send the bill to me,” 
said the parson. 

“ No, no, that will never do ; the whole aflair would be- 
come known. Tell him to send the bill to me,” said Abe 
Checksnap, a well-known wealthy sport. 

“ All right, su*,” said Pat, as he took the mule in hand. 

“ And tell the owner,” continued Abe, “ that the whole 
thing was the result of a mistake, and that I will pay him 
any damage he may wish. Now then, here is a couple of 
dollars for yourself. Be off now, and see that you keep 
your mouth shut. 

“ Och, be gab, I’d have it sewed up for two dollars,” re- 
plied Pat, as he commenced lashing together the splintered 
shafts of the donkey-cart. 

Everything being arranged, the young men assisted the 
parson on with his coat and hat, and then into his own 
wagon, and handed him the reins. The fall and subse 
quent excitement perfectly sobered the old man, and when 
he once more drew the reins over Duster he appeared to 
be himself again quite as much as Richard ever was. 

“Now, boys, if any of you would like a brush, I think 
Duster and I can accommodate you. 

“ I’ll go you one for fifty,” said Charley Doleful 

“ Oh, no ; I never bet,” said the parson. 








70 


PAESON BEECHER AND HIS HORSE. 


“ I’ll go you one for a wine-supper,” said Abe Checksnap. 

“ No, no , I’ve had wine enough.” 

‘‘ Nonsense ! a hair of the same dog will cure the bite,” 
said another. 

“Well, I’ll accommodate you; come on!” said the 
parson, drawing up the reins. “ Which way ?” 

“ Say a two-mile dash, or from here to Tom Nob’s 
blacksmith shop. Is it a go ?” 

“I’m satisfied;” and the two contestants brought their 
carriages up abreast of each other. 

“ Are you ready ?” asked Charley. 

“ Ready !” both responded. 

“ Then, go !” 

At the word they both spoke to their nags, and away 
they leaped as though fully comprehending the situation 
and the terms of the bet. The road was wide and level, 
and a better two-mile dash could not be found outside 
of the race-course. For the fir»t half-mile Checksnap’s 
horse was nearly a length ahead, and to the minds of 
those who brought up the rear it was somewhat doubtful 
whether the parson would win the race or not, although 
their sympathies were all with him and his homely horse. 

At the end of the first mile Duster was still behind, 
and the parson was in a great sweat, not so much on ac- 
count of having to pay for the supper if he got beaten as 
the dread of being beaten at all. Gradually, Duster ate up 
to his antagonist, who was doing splendid work, and was 


PARSON BEECHER AND HIS HORSE. 


71 


handled finely, ■while Dmter was doing just about as he 
pleased, as he always did. 

When they had arrived to within half a mile of tho 
blacksmith’s shop, Dmter was still half a length behind, 
but he seemed to be just warming up, and on the last 
quarter he put forth a burst of speed that left his antago- 
nist fully three lengths behind when they arrived at the 
blacksmith’s shop, where a crowd of people welcomed him 
with loud plaudits. 

But Duster was not satisfied with what he had done. 
To win a race with such a horse as Checksnap drove was 
nothing for him ; so when the horse came up alongside of 
him and stopped, he just opened his huge ugly mouth and 
placed it firmly on the other’s neck, as though indignant at 
his presumption in attempting to race with him. 

The parson yelled “ Whoa !” and pulled back with all 
his might, while Checksnap leaped from his wagon and ran 
forward to the rescue his horse. After biting and 
shaking to his heart’s content, Dmter released his hold and 
sent his hind legs up at the parson, smashing in the dash- 
board, and bobbing the old man out among the wheels. 

“ Whoa ! you villain ! — whoa !” he yelled, as he 
scrambled around and tried to regain his feet. Duster 
turned his head and looked back at the old man with a 
wicked expression in his face, which said as plainly as 
words could say it, “ Have you got enough, or shall I 
heave them again ?” 


72 


PARSON BEECHER AND HIS HORSE. 


“ Whoa ! you rascal ! — whoa !” plead the parson, drop, 
ping the reins and crawling out from between the wheels. 

The blacksmith’s helper made a motion to hold Duster's 
head; but the beast opened his mouth at him, and the 
fellow fell back in good order and without offering to ex- 
cuse himself. 

“ Whoa ! Duster — whoa 1 there’s a good boy — whoa !” 
and the old preacher patted him soothingly on the head.” 
“It’s all right, old fellow; I forgive you.” 

“Are you hurt?” asked Checksnap. 

“ No ; is your horse hurt ?” 

“ Not much ; but what a devil-horse that is to be sure. 
If I had him I’d break every bone in his body.” 

“ Well, then, you wouldn’t have a fast horse if you did ; 
you would have to break his back to break his viciousness.” 

“ Why don’t you muzzle him ?” 

“ That is a good thing ; but would you like to try it ?” 

“ I think I had rather be excused.” 

“ The trouble is he was mad to see how hard he had to 
work in order to get ahead of your horse.” 

“ Perhaps ; but you beat me handsomely, and now we 
will go and have the supper.” 

At that moment the other members of the party drove 
^ up and learned particulars. Three cheers were given for 
the parson and for Duster, and after fixing his dashboard, 
the entire party started for the hotel to partake of the 
champagne supper. 



74 


PARSON BEECHER AND HIS HORSE. 


It was a grand affair, such as turfmen most always enjoy : 
but, as they had seen all the sport they cared to at the old 
minister’s expense, at least for one day, they behaved with 
more moderation, and so got up from the table right side 
up and regular. The parson thought highly of it, and 
now understood why rational men could enjoy such things 
and fanatics railed against them ; in fact, he was fast be- 
coming liberal in his ideas, and felt that actual experience 
was doing him more good than all the theories in the 
world. 

The party separated, and drove to their respective 
homes ; but the doings of the minister had not escaped the 
notice of his watchful and disgusted flock on this occa- 
sion any more than on former ones. A church-meeting 
was held, and it was voted to depose the old man and get 
a new minister. 

With many misgivings and much sorrow, the church 
voted on the question, and Parson Beecher was turned out 
to grass. A new minister, a young man, was procured 
and installed. It was a great occasion, and became the 
talk of the country for miles around ; but the old parson 
took little notice of the affair, so ardently had he given 
himself over to the sports of horse-racing. 

Three months rolled away. The new minister did not 
come up to the expectations of the church, and there was 
considerable grumbling. Nor was this all; he was un- 
married, and thereby hung several tales. In the church 


PARSON BEECHER AND HIS HORSE. 


75 


there were at least fifty marriageable women of various 
ages, and, of course, each one “ set her cap ” for the young 
dominie. This created dissensions and jealousies. They 
all wanted him, and as they could not all enjoy such 
felicity, they talked about and back-bit each other until 
there was scarcely any brotherly, and not an ounce of 
sisterly, love in the church. 

Meanwhile, Parson Beecher was enjoying himself some- 
times, and sometimes Duster enjoyed himself at the old 
man’s expense ; in fact, he appeared to be determined 
that his master should not have all sweets and no bitters. 
As for bitters,” he was not averse to them when par- 
taken of in the usual way ; but this having ’em as Duster 
directed gave the old man many bumps and much trouble. 

Yet he was still king of the road, and maintained his 
title against all comers. One Sunday the old man had been 
out with him upon the course, when he had managed to 
pocket quite a stake “ indirectly,” or, as a celebrated mayor 
once held, ministerially,” and was slowly walking his 
horse homeward when the sound of church music greeted 
his ears. 

He looked up from his reverie and found himself oppo- 
site his old church. The tune was a familiar one, and com- 
ing from familiar courts and well-known voices, he halted 
and listened. His conscience smote him. He was almost 
persuaded to go in and enjoy the old time again. In fact 
he felt guilty and sinful. 


76 


PARSON BEECHER AND HIS HORSE. 


As the music died away, he drove his horse up under 
one of the open windows and listened to the voice of the 
new preacher, who began his evening sermon. 

He became more and more interested. Now and then 
words reached his ears and pricked his conscience. He 
stood up, and resting his elbows upon the window-sill con- 
tinued to listen. 

The members of the congregation did not at first notice 
him, but by and by some of the boys began to snicker, and 
then they pointed up to the window at the familiar face of 
Parson Beecher. 

It wasn’t long before every face in the church was turned 
up towards the window. Those in the gallery were just 
dying to know what the excitement was all about, whilst 
everybody who could see was wondering what it meant 
that Parson Beecher should he seen in such an attitude. 

The minister could not see the old man from the pulpit, 
and became very much annoyed at the inattention of his 
congregation. One whispered to the other, “ The old par- 
son has repented;” another, “He has been touched,” “ Seen 
the error of his ways,” and before the old man, who was 
deeply interested in the sermon, was aware of it, he had not 
only created a sensation but a favorable impression among 
all, especially the old ladies with marriageable daughters. 

Seeing that he was disturbing the meeting he sat down 
in his wagon again and listened until the sermon was over, 
after which he gathered up the reins and headed Duster 








78 


PAESON BEECHER AND HIS HORSE. 


for the turnpike. He started to go back to the tavern, 
but his conscience reproved him, and again turning his 
horse he started for home, wrapped in a profound and rather 
uncomfortable reverie. 

But Duster concluded that there had been just sentiment 
and shenanigan enough for one day, and so laid back his 
ears and started. The parson attempted to check him, but 
he refused to be trifled with. 

“ Whoa, you wicked beast ! See what you have brought 
me to.” 

Just as he spoke Duster gave a rear and a plunge, and 
over the hand-rail of a small bridge he went, taking wagon 
and driver over with him into the muddy stream below. 
It was an unceremonious baptismal such as the old man 
was not prepared for. But he clung to the reins and rose 
to the surface blowing like a grampus and yelling like one 
possessed. 

The people were by this time coming from church, and 
hearing his cry several of them hastened to his rescue. 
They arrived just in season, and just in time to seize Duster^ 
who was trying his best to scramble up the bank, and to 
drag his owner out of the mess he had got him into. 

The old man was bruised, wrenched, shocked, and most 
emphatically ducked. The wagon was broken, and his hat 
was probably sticking in the mud where his old head had so 
recently been thrust. His friends assisted him out and 
carried him home. Great sympathy was everywhere man- 


PARSON BEECHER AND HIS HORSE. 


79 


ifested, and during the fortnight’s sickness which followed 
scarcely a single one of his old hearers neglected to visit 
and to condole with him. 

During this time Duster had a good resting-spell, al- 
though he often went hungry on account of his playfulness 
with the hostler who had been employed to attend him 
while the parson was laid up. 

But was for sale. He had cut up one too many 

times with the old man, and now that he had time to reflect 
on matters dispassionately he concluded that Duster was 
for sale. 

During the many visits that his old hearers had paid to 
him during his confinement they had told him in confidence 
of the jealousies and dissensions that were astir in the 
church, the causes of which they were not slow to speak of 
Even more than this was hinted at. It was the general 
opinion that the new minister could never be useful, on ac- 
count of there being so many girls in the church who want- 
ed to marry him. 

If he smiled on one, forty-nine others and their parents 
frowned on him ; and if he spoke privately to one, the others 
were wild with envy and made it a subject for gossip for 
the next week, or until he spoke or smiled upon another. 
Things had come to a bad pass, and everything but jealousy 
and hatred was getting decidedly lukewarm. 

One after another of them hinted to the old man that if 
he would give up his fast hq^se and buy a slow one (in fact. 


80 


PARSON BEECHER AND HIS HORSE. 


they •would give him a slow one), they would gladly forgive 
the past and restore him to his old position of usefulness 
again. 

These expressions of love and returning confidence took 
close hold upon the old man’s heart, and he privately an- 
nounced to a few of his friends that his horse was for sale. 

This was soon noised abroad, and several large ofiers 
were sent to the old man by letter, knowing that he was not 
well enough to converse on the subject. 

But the old parson soon got able to go out, and none 
were more delighted to see him, apparently, than Duster, 
who whinnied and danced. 

“ Oh, you old rascal ! you are glad to see me, are you, 
after all the deviltry you have done ? Arn’t you ashamed 
of yourself?” 

Duster flopped his long ears back and forth, and whin- 
nied affirmatively. He said, as plainly as horse-talk could 
say it, that he was dreadfully sorry, and that if he would 
give him another trial he would be as honest and sober 
a hearse-horse. 

“No you don’t,” continued the parson; “you have 
nearly broken my neck a dozen of times, and I have lost 
all faith in your pretensions to honesty, or promises to do 
better. Duster, you are a bad beast, and I am going to 
sell you if I can find a man who is fool enough to pay my 
price, or have you at any price, in fact.” 

While he was holding this little confab with his horse, 




82 


PARSON BEECHER AND HIS HORSE. 


the Stable-door was darkened by the entrance of a short, 
thick-set, black-eyed man, who had a carpet bag in his 
hand, and who looked as though he had lately alighted 
from a train of cars. 

“ Have I the pleasure of addressing Parson Beecher ?” 

“ Yes, sir, you have,” he replied . 

“ Well, sir, my name is Robert Bonheur ; I reside in 
New York; you may have heard of me.” 

“ It seems to me that I have,” mused the parson. 

“ I have heard of the remarkable doings of your horse, 
and only yesterday I learned that you had concluded to 
sell him ; is that so ?” 

“Well, sir, I have said that I would sell him provided 
I could get my price.” 

“Is that the horse — I should judge it was.” 

“ Yes, that is the animal.” 

“ Duster— that his name ?” 

“ That’s the name he came to me by, and I have never 
changed it.” 

“ Suppose you harness him up and let me see his style 
for a few miles.” 

The old man hesitated ; he had promised hihaself that 
he would never drive him again : but as this was to drive 
a bargain, he finally concluded to do so, and assisted the 
stable boy to harness him. 

Taking the great horse-fancier into the wagon, he drew 


PARSON BEECHER AND HIS HORSE. 


83 


the reins over Duster once more, and away they went like 
the wind. 

The horse never felt better or more honest, and never 
before equalled the speed he showed on this occasion. He 
gave the go-by to everything on the road, even with two 
in the wagon ; and after driving him ten miles and back, he 
scarcely showed that he had noticed it. 

Mr. Bonheur w;as delighted. He was a horse jockey, 
however, and wa-j determined to get the horse j'ust as cheap 
as he could ; so he began to find all the fault he could with 
his general appearance, his awkward gait and homely head : 
but just to show that he meant business, he resolved to 
make the old man an offer. 

“ Would ten thousand dollars be any inducement to you 
to part with Duster 

“ The old man opened his eyes in wonder. Mr. Bonheur 
thought he was offended at the smallness of his offer. 

‘‘ Well, would fifteen thousand move you ?” 

“ Why, sir, I am surprised,” said the parson. 

“ Well, you know you have not set a figure on him yet,and 
I had to offer at random. But I think I could make a fast 
horse out of him : what do you say to twentythousand ?” 

t< Say ! — why, I say I will take it,” replied the parson, 
with eyes and mouth agape. 

“ All right ! Give me a clean bill of sale, and I will give 
you a draft on my bank for the amount.” 


84 


PARSON BEECHER AND HIS HORSE. 


There was but little further talk ; in fact, there was but 
little occasion for it, as both parties to the trade appeared 
to be perfectly satisfied. 

“ But I must tell you one thing, Mr. Bonheur ; I could 
not sell that horse under a false impression : he is wicked 
as Satan himself.” 

“ Ha ! old man, you do not know me ; I would rather 
have a vicious horse than an honest one. I love to ex- 
periment on them.” 

“ Well, you will find experimenting enough on this one, 
I will warrant you ; but beyond this, he is sound and good 
as you see him.” 

“ All right ! I am satisfied.” 

Without further loss of time the bill of sale was made 
out and the draft given for it. The next day he was to call 
for the horse, and so the old parson passed an hour or so 
with him that night, talking over old times, as it were, 
and reminding him of the many tricks he had played upon 
him, and the many things he had broken, including many 
seemingly honest promises to behave himself and be a 
better horse. 

The next day Mr. Bonheur called to get his horse. 

Duster did not appear to be a senseless spectator of what 
was going on. More in sorrow than in anger, he seemed 
to comprehend the fact that he had been sold out — that the 
good old parson was about to replace him with an old cob, 
possessing a greater stock of honesty and less speed. 




86 


PARSON BEECHER AND HIS HORSE. 


So when Mr. Bonhner entered the stable in company 
with a Celtish groom, Duster laid back his long ears and 
began to dance in his stall. 

“ Bring him out, Mike,” said Mr. Bonhner, pointing the 
groom to his new purchase. 

Mike went to obey. Duster allowed him to come into 
the stall beside him, and then, opening his huge mouth, he 
picked the Celt up by the waist and threw him over into 
the next stall. 

“Whoa!” shouted the great jockey; and the brute 
looked around as though anxious to get a shake at him, 
too. 

“ Och ! murther an nouns, I’m kilt, just kilt, an that’s all 
about it,” groaned Mike, as he drew himself out into the 
stable floor. 

“ Are you hurt ? ” 

“ Don’t I tell yees I’m kilt?” 

“ Nonsense; you are only frightened.” 

“Frightened, is it. Well, one more such a fright wud 
make a wake of me, so it wud. Is that the baste yer, af- 
ther giving twenty thousand for?” 

“ Never you mind ; bring him out.” 

“ Go you in and bring him.” 

“ Sir ; what do I hire you for ? ” 

“ Not for horse-bait, I guess.” 

“ Go in and bring him out, sir,” thundered Mr. Bon- 


huer. 


PARSON BEECHER AND HIS HORSE. 


87 


“ My life’s not insured, an there’s Biddy and the chil- 
der.” 

“ Confound your cowardice. Go in ! ” 

“ Will yees he afther paying me funeral expenses ? ” 

“Yes, yes ; go in.” 

“ And take care of Biddy an the childer ? ” 

“Yes ! ” he yelled ; “ go in, I tell you.” 

Mike again approached the stall, and Duster began ^to 
dance. Both owner and groom said “ Whoa ! ” and “ Whoa, 
ye divil ! ” but neither seemed to reach the horse’s nerves. 

Just as Mike had arrived at about the right distance, 
and Duster could calculate to a nicety in such things, he let 
fly his heels, knocking the Irishman’s hat off* and just graz- 
ing his head. 

Mike never stopped till he was safely out of the stable, 
and both men shouted to the tops of their voices. This 
brought the parson from the house, and he was soon made 
aware of how matters stood. 

“ Yes, I told you there were lots of experimenting in 
him,” he replied, smiling honestly. 

“ All right ; let me once get him out of his stall and I’ll 
teach him a lesson. I never saw the horse yet that I would 
give up to. He is a very devil.” 

“Be gob, an yer right, Mr. Bonhuer, an as prastes can 
dale with the divil better nor anybody else, let him be wid 
the praste,” replied Mike, who had again ventured into the 
stable. 


88 


PARSON BEECHER AND HIS HORSE. 


“ I will bring him out and put a bridle and saddle on 
him/’ said the parson. 

“ That is all I will ask of you. But have the kindness to 
put this curb-bit on, instead of your old-fashioned one; and 
once let me get into the saddle and I will take all further 
risk,” replied the new owner, handing the parson a curb- 
bit bridle that he had brought on purpose. 

The old man went into the stall alongside of Duster^ 
who danced and capered around somewhat, as though still 
annoyed at the presence of the other men ; but by consid- 
erable patting and coaxing he suffered himself to be bridled 
and saddled, and led out into the yard. Mike, in the mean- 
time, kept at a respectful distance, and stood half bent in 
an attitude which plainly told that he was ready to run 
for his life at the first alarm. 

“ There he is, sir,” said the parson. 

Mr. Bonhuer, being no novice, at once approached, and 
before Duster was aware of it, he was upon his back and 
firmly seated. He reared and plunged several times, but 
finding himself in the hands of a master, he seemed greatly 
puzzled. Then he attempted to take the bit between his 
teeth and to run, but the lever and the curb were too much 
for him, and he found himself conquered. 

A better behaved horse, from that time out, it would be 
hard to find. He had never before met his master, and 
now he seemed to comprehend that the days of his wild 






90 


PARSON BEECHER AND HIS HORSE. 


oats were over, and that thereafter business and honesty 
must be attended to, whether or no. 

With but little trouble he transported him to New 
York, when he soon became king of his stued and also king 
of the turf, as the world has since learned ; and although 
still disposed to ‘‘ cut up ” with the hostler and his compan- 
ion racers, he is the most reliable horse whenever his mas- 
ter is about, which is all that is required of him. 

Now let us turn to our hero. Parson Beecher. The fact 
of his selling his eccentric horse soon became noised all 
over town. The sporting fraternity were indignant that 
the owner of all the fast horses in the country should also 
possess Duster, but beyond this class of the townspeople, 
everybody was delighted to know that the cause of so 
much mischief had been taken away. 

It was not long before a few of the old parsons personal 
friends and admirers began to talk about the propriety of 
presenting him with a serviceable but a more sober and 
reliable horse. 

This was thought favorable of for several reasons. 
There was a great good work to be done in the community, 
and it was the general feeling that no one except the old 
parson, who had tilled the field so long, could do it efiect- 
ively. Several influential members of the church really 
wished to get him back into the church and pulpit again, 
and this was looked upon as the best first step they could 
take to get on good terms with the old man once more. 


PARSON BEECHER AND HIS HORSE. 


91 


So they bought a worthy cob and presented it to him. 
This act completely won the old parson’s heart, and the 
next Sunday he rode his gift to church, and listened to the 
sermon of the new preacher. 

It was the greatest sensation of the year, in fact the 
parson was about the only one who listened to the sermon 
at all. All eyes were centered on him, and when the fore- 
noon services were over he was completely besieged by the 
crowd of friends who flocked around him. 

Old and young, rich and poor, gathered to shake the old 
man’s hand, to express their delight at seeing him again in 
church. 

The old women were in ecstacies. Some of them were 
moved to tears as they gathered around their old spiritual 
adviser, and during the reception the new minister passed 
out of the church in company with Deacon Doleful and his 
daughter, scarcely noticed by any one else. 

The old parson’s social magnetism, his great good humor 
and sympathy carried all before him, and could it have been 
then and there put to a vote he would have been reinstated 
without a doubt. 

“ Lordy massy, how good it does seem,” said one. 

“ Oh, deary, I haven’t felt so good since Christmas,” re- 
plied another. 

“Don’t it seem natural ” 

“ Oh, don’t it though.” 

“ Dear me, if he would only come back and preach.” 



PARSON BEECHER AND HIS HORSE. 


93 


“We must have him.’^ 

“ What happy times we used to have, oh, dear ! ” 

“ There wasn’t no wrangling then,” said a fond mother 
with four marriageable daughters on her mind, all of whom 
wanted the young dominie as well as dozens of other young 
ladies who felt it to be their duty to marry him. 

And little children flocked around the old man, and 
strong men nearly wrenched his arm out of its socket in 
the warmth of their greeting, while those who couldn’t get 
a chance to shake his hand pulled his coat tail. 

During the next week a committee of the leading mem- 
bers of the church called on him for the purpose of sound- 
ing him on the question of assuming the place he had form- 
erly held, and of gathering up the broken threads in the 
church web, and they found him not averse, provided he 
was recalled by a unanimous vote, and the other minister 
could be provided with a situation. 

This they promised to look after, and so withdrew, feel- 
ing good and leaving good feelings behind. 

The next day a deputation of mothers of the church 
called on him, and notwithstanding they were composed of 
the same members,almost, that called on him before, relative 
to his fast eccentricities with Duster ^ still they were feeling 
altogether different now. 

“Oh, parson, do come back to us,” said one. 

“Yes, we can’t seem to get on without you.” 

“ Parson Pounder’s preaching don’t seem ter strike in.’' 


94 


PARSON BEECHER AND HIS HORSE. 


said one old lady, seizing her old favorite by the hand, 
“ and there’s nothin’ but fitin’ and wranglin’ on account of 
his not bein’ married, I don’t believe in a parson’s not bein’ 
married, no how, it allers makes trouble in church.” 

“ Only to think of all the nice sewing circles we used 
to have, and the prayer meetings,” said another. 

“ Ain’t been no such times since.” 

“ It don’t seem one bit natural-like to have a young 
spruce-looking parson calling around among us, asking 
us how we feel ; and there’s my Sarey Jane she lost nigh 
unto half of her good name by having him call on her 
twice.” 

“ What !” exclaimed Parson Beecher, turning to the 
speaker. 

“ I mean,” she added, “ that the other gals as wanted 
him tharselves war mad as hornets, and talked shamefully 
about her just because he took a little notice on her.” 

“ Do come back, parson,” was the burden of their 
united song, and dismissing them with his blessing he 
bade them hope for the best, and the best would surely 
come. 

Such a happy community and with all such an excited 
one was seldom ever seen before. The new parson was 
provided with a wife in the person of Jane Ann Doleful, 
thus mollifying the deacon, and with a flock a few miles 
away, where his usefulness would not be subjected to so 
many drawbacks as it had been here. 


PARSON BEECHER AND HIS HORSE. 


95 


Then came a chvirch-meeting where the question come 
up relative to reinstating the parson, and there was not 
an opposing vote. 

The old man was led into the vestry by a mixed com- 
mittee composed of brethren and sisterin. Such an ova- 
tion is seldom awarded an ordinary mortal. The mothers 
in Israel threw their arms about his neck, and rested their 
heads upon his shoulders. The young women smiled and 
looked happy (the young parson wasn’t such a catch after 
all, and they were really glad that Jane Ann Doleful had 
him and taken him away), while the deacons and brothers 
generally renewed their allegiance to the old man, and 
everybody was happy. 

The next Sabbath the good man again took his place 
in the pulpit. The experience that he had partaken of had 
given him new life and vigor. iN'ever before was he so 
powerful, or so well listened to. Nearly every one of 
the “ sports ” in town came to listen to his sermon, and 
he just went for them like a fellow sinner, bound to win in 
this business, as he had while mingling with them in what 
was more congenial to their tastes. 

Gradually, he won them over to his way of thinking, 
and Sunday races were abandoned, together with many 
other wicked excesses that no other man could have reached 
as he did. Great Shakspeare says, “ There is a divinity that 
shapes our ends rough hew them as we may/^ and truer 
words were never written. 


96 


PARSON BEECHER AND HIS HORSE. 


So in the end good came of the whole transaction, and 
to this day the town has no occasion to regret the advent 
of Duster^ or the adventures of Parson Beecher and TTts 
Horse. 











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